Ghosts
by Karla YtF
Summary: While dying after defeating Voldemort, Harry sees ghosts.


**Ghosts**

Karla

_On yester-morn in grayish mist,_

_Armies like ghosts on hills had fought,_

_And rolled from the cloud their thunders loud_

_The Cumberlands far had caught:_

_Today the sunlit steeps are sought._

_Grant stood on cliffs whence all was plain,_

_And smoked as one who feels no cares;_

_But mastered nervousness intense,_

_Alone such calmness wears._

* * *

Harry sees ghosts and he sees ghosts all the time.

When he closes his eyes, there, between time and space, there between life and death in a world beyond dreams, he sees ghosts. He sees ghosts when he breathes, he sees ghosts when he tries to wake up, numb at the world around him, numb at the light at the other side of the window, numb at the people who keep saying, _please wake up_.

He sees ghosts when he falls to the ground, the soft ground, the rough ground, the one who welcomes him, like it always did when he had to fall, over and over again, when he had to recover, when he cried over Sirius and over Cedric, when he fall through the window in Godric's Hollow, when he knew the truth in Dumbledore's office. To the ground, where the ghosts surround him.

Harry sees ghosts when he feels the knife going throw his limbs and when he doesn't turn around to see his killer, the one who is probably now been killed by the Order and the Army, his army and his order, his friends. Because it doesn't matter now, he's killed Voldemort and now it doesn't matter that he is seeing Voldemort's own ghost.

It is funny, though. That at the very same moment that he took the Elder Wand and watched Voldemort's dead body falling, he too felt the knife, of a Death Eater, of course, one last loyal Death Eater.

And somehow it also feels fair, it wouldn't be alright to live. He wasn't betraying his mother's last wishes, his mother's sacrifice. No, he lived long enough to honor her. The debt was full fished and he felt like resting, a good nap wouldn't hurt anyone.

Yet he doesn't seem to be resting. He sees Merope's ghost, pregnant and unpregnant, carrying a baby and killing it, crying and smiling. Crying at his baby's fate. Smiling at his death.

And he sees Grindelwald, young and smiling, like he saw him in the photos. He sees him holding hands with another man, an unknown man, the one you never understood.

And Tom's ghosts seems more real than he ever was in life. Crying in a corner, just like he was in the train. Tied to a damned world, never to rest.

And Harry sees his own ghost. Laughing, screaming, carrying a child with messy hair, kissing a red haired beauty, marrying, eating, crying and laughing again. Living, living the life he always wanted, living the life he always dreamt with. The one escaping throw his breathing, the one escaping throw his visions. And he sees himself dying old in his bed with a smile on his face. He wants to smile, one last time. He feels like smiling, he feels like kissing Ginny, so badly that what he doesn't feel is being carried by Ron's arms, being surrounded by all the people who lived and will live many years more.

He doesn't hear the sound of victory claimed by the World, his victory, a peaceful new world. And he wonders if he can take a bit of that peace to heaven, he feels like resting, resting again.

He is happy to see them instead of his parents, of Sirius, Remus and Dora and everyone he loved, everyone who loved him. He's so happy. They are finally in peace.

He sees ghosts. He sees an old smiling lady with white hair and brown eyes whispering in his ear_ 'You can sleep now' _and he trusts her, her voice sounds so familiar.

Yes, you can finally rest now Harry, she's going to live a long happy life. Without You.

* * *

**Notes**:

Drabble for "Ghosts" at my livejournal prom challenge. (ytf . livejournal . com).

I always wonder why, just why, Voldemort didn't make sure his ultimate enemy was completly killed. I mean, I know why, because Rowling was too lazy to write another chapter only for complicating things. But seriously, imagine he wants to play a bit more and hurts Harry, enough to give him a deadly wound. I always imagined this alternative version where Harry kills Voldy just like he did in the book but with this new wound, ends up dying after Voldermot. Now, that would be a little bit more difficult to explain for a drabble so I came up with this. Yeah.

Verse at the beginning by Herman Meville.

* * *

02 June 2009


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